The Student Teacher
by ER Lovelace
Summary: Kurt almost gets run over, and the would-be murderer turns out to be the student teacher for glee club, and there's something off about him...
1. The Jerk

**Generic Disclaimer: Glee nor Klaine is mine. If you recognize it, it probably isn't mine.**

A/N: A new story of mine that I'm trying out. It might work, it might not, but I'm gonna try. :D Review please. I wanna know what you guys think of the beginning!

Length: App. 1/2 of a page  
>Time: App. 10-15 minutes<p>

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><p>Kurt Hummel did not like to walk. It made him sweat, which he hated, because then he smelled bad and had to take a shower and just...no.<p>

Tonight, however, was an exception. He was stressed and angry and needed to get away from Burt and Carole and Finn and just _think_ for a few hours. So he had grabbed his phone and his iPod and walked out of their new house and down the street. He turned on Patti LuPone and began to walk, stepping in time with the music.

As he was about to cross an intersection of his street and some other, a very expensive-looking sports car zoomed past, and Kurt caught only a startling glimpse of a man with dark hair and pitch-black eyes driving, and Kurt swore he saw the darkness _curling itself _around the man. The counter-tenor huffed, annoyed at the driver's obvious apathy about the fact that Kurt could have been killed. "Jerk." Kurt muttered, turning up the volume on _Defying Gravity_ before he started walking back towards his new house.


	2. New Guy

**Generic Disclaimer: Glee nor Klaine is mine. If you recognize it, it probably isn't mine.**

A/N: People seemed to like this, with all of the Story Alert+ and Favorite Story+ emails I received from FF, so I decided to continue it! :D Leave reviews, tell me what you think, et cetera, et cetera.

Length: 1 and 1/3 pages  
>Time: App. 20 minutes<p>

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><p>Kurt was still slightly miffed about almost being a victim of vehicular manslaughter the next day at school. And he was by no means quiet about it.<p>

"Boy, you have told me this story fifteen times already. And yes, I've been counting." Mercedes said as she sat down next to him in glee club. "I do not need to hear about it again."

"Sorry Mercedes. It's just so annoying. I mean really, he could have at least glanced at me. It was like I didn't even exist."

"Alright guys, settle down." Kurt sighed at Mr. Schuester's words, turning to face the vest-obsessed man. "I have good news for all of you. I think you'll really enjoy it."

"You ran out of Journey songs for us to sing so you'll be focusing on Broadway classics instead?" Rachel asked hopefully.

"You've committed yourself to ending your tacky obsession with vests?" Kurt offered, only half hoping it would be true.

"No and no. I received word that a student in the local college is interested in being a student teacher for the arts. I sent in a resumé for McKinley, and the college has just replied to tell me that he's on his way here right now. You guys are getting a student teacher!"

"Mr. Schuester—" Rachel started, but was only cut off by a voice at the door of the choir room.

"I take it you're Mr. William Schuester, then?" Mr. Schue turned, still grinning, and nodded.

"Yes, I am, and this is the New Directions. Kurt, Mercedes, Rachel, Finn, Puck, Tina, Mike, Quinn, Brittany, Santana, and Artie. Care to introduce yourself?"

"Blaine, Blaine Anderson. It's truly an honor to be here. I was so excited when I heard that my own high school had a decent arts program." The man said, but Kurt hardly heard him. All he could see was the hair. The curly dark hair that had belonged to his would-be murderer. Of course, his eyes weren't pitch black (they were a brownish-green colour; very pretty, really), nor was there darkness curling around him (he actually seemed to glow from the light; it highlighted the subtle curve of muscle under his black t-shirt) as there had been last night. Kurt was positive though; he could never forget such a handsome face.

"Kurt? Is something wrong?"

"Hm? Oh, no." Kurt hastily stood and left. He hadn't even heard the bell ring.

As he was heading out of the room, he caught a glimpse of Karofsky and tensed just a tad. Once he was gone, Kurt dashed out. Before he did, though, he looked back, and was positive that he saw pitch black eyes on him.


	3. Mystery

**Generic Disclaimer: Glee nor Klaine is mine. If you recognize it, it probably isn't mine.**

A/N: I didn't feel doing a full-out description of Blaine's performance, because I know some of you like to actually use your imagination, so I left it open for creative control. :)

Length: 7 and 1/2 pages  
>Time: App. 45 minutes<p>

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><p>The next day, Kurt did a little research on Blaine Anderson. What he found was more than disturbing.<p>

"Mercedes!" He hissed, gesturing to the diva that was browsing in the nearby bookshelves of the library. "Come here!"

"What's got you all worked up? She asked. He simply gestured to the computer screen in response, awaiting her reaction. "Alright, it's an article about a kid that got killed in a motorcycle accident."

"His name was Anderson. _Blaine_ Anderson."

"Kurt, this article is 57 years old. There is no way this is our student teacher."

"Look at the picture, 'Cedes. It looks _just like him_."

"It could have been his grandpa or an uncle or something. Don't jump to conclusions."

"Fine. I still say he's some kind of occultist weirdo or something."

"Or a dæmon."

Kurt turned, raising an eyebrow at the girl clad in a t-shirt, jeans, and Converse All-Star shoes with a intensely blue bag hanging off one shoulder and a book entitled Ruby Red in her hands.

"A _what_?"

"A dæmon. Shape-shifters, poltergeists, mischievous children of Hell. Dæmons. They're spirits of the wronged—suicides, murders, car accidents, drownings, etc. They come back seeking revenge and stay until they're freed from their curse by a soul that has sought revenge and overcome it." The girl paused. "That's what the diaries of my great-aunt say, anyway. She was a dæmon huntress."

"Are you saying the glee club's student teacher is a spirit come to take revenge on his murderer?" Mercedes asked, obviously skeptical.

"It's a possibility. Have a nice day." She turned to go, but stopped at the computer of Kurt. "Oh, Kurt? I'm sorry about what David's doing to you. I've asked him to stop, but I don't think he knows that I know he's still doing it. I'll ask him to stop again." The girl with mouse-brown hair and green eyes left, and Kurt looked to Mercedes.

"That was Karofsky's little sister, Delilah. She goes by Lilah, and _everyone_ thinks she's crazy—except Karofsky. He's super protective of her. He pummeled four hockey players freshman year for slushie-ing her."

"Huh. Maybe she is crazy." Kurt packed his bag up, logging out of the computer, and left for glee club with his friend, still curious about the article he'd found.

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><p>"Alright, we've been working very hard, and we tied with the Warblers at Sectionals. That's not gonna cut it, guys. We've got to be <em>better<em> than them if we want to win Nationals. Our new student teacher has a presentation for us as well. Now, while you're watching that, I want you to think: how can we use some of his methods? Now go. Auditorium."

"The boys and girls of the club hustled to the auditorium, making sure they got seats that were perfectly in the middle. Kurt thought he could see a dark figure by the side of the stage, but he couldn't be sure.

The curly-headed student teacher said nothing as the lights went down, and Kurt suppressed a shiver of excitement. Without any intro whatsoever, Blaine appeared, upstage right. There was fog covering the floor of the stage, and Blaine seemed almost at home in it.

Within seconds, Blaine had launched into a heart-wrenching rendition of _Desperado_, accompanied by a single unseen pianist and a man Kurt had never seen before that was doing nothing but walking around the stage.

The way Blaine sang the classic, the way he put a spin on the story, following the man around and begging him not to leave again, had Kurt enthralled.

At the end of the song, the man stopped walking and looked over his shoulder, and at that exact moment, Blaine disappeared. There had been no lights on him, just ones to illuminate the stage floor/fog, and Blaine had simply vanished into the blackness. When the lights came back up again, Blaine was casually sitting next to Kurt, smiling. The entire glee club gave him a standing ovation, though Kurt eyed him curiously. For a second, the counter-tenor thought he could see tendrils of darkness twisting their way away from the college student.

"That was wonderful. You obviously share my flare for the dramatic." Rachel gushed. Blaine smiled at her, giving her a quick 'Thanks' before turning to Kurt.

"What did the master of the dramatic think?" The man asked, grinning slyly. Kurt cocked one eyebrow up, deliberating for a moment.

"The ending was a nice touch." He said simply, smiling and walking away from the man after everyone else. "I would suggest a better partner, though."

"Like you?"

"Preferably not one you tried to run over."

"That," Blaine said, very suddenly behind Kurt and _breathing_ the word into his ear. "That was an accident. You weren't supposed to be there. I'm kind of glad you were, though." Blaine chuckled, hand stroking the air in front of Kurt's cheek. "See you in class, Kurt."

Kurt turned to respond and was startled by the empty space there.

"Where did he go?" The blue eyes singer muttered, looking around the dark and empty auditorium and seeing no sign of Blaine Anderson or his performance partner. They'd simply disappeared.


	4. Revelation

**Generic Disclaimer: Glee nor Klaine is mine. If you recognize it, it probably isn't mine.**

A/N: Okay, so, I know these aren't very long, but I'm writing them by hand between assignments and classes, so when I write them by hand, they seem a lot longer than on here.

Length: App. 3 pages  
>Time: App. 30 minutes<p>

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><p>"Okay, who <em>are<em> you? The only Blaine Anderson that graduated from McKinley died 82 years ago, and the only other one that went here was killed in a motorcycle accident 57 years ago. Why don't you just tell us the truth? I don't understand why you're impersonating a dead unless you've done something terrible. So out with it. Who are you?

"Well. You've done your research." Kurt whirled from the mirror he was talking to and swallowed his voice. Blaine Anderson was standing there, leaning against the door Kurt had locked himself. "Is that all? Or do you know more than you just told yourself?" Blaine shrugged himself of the wall and stepped forward. Kurt, however much he wanted to, couldn't move. He was frozen in place, watching warily as Blaine continued toward him.

"What are you going to do? Murder me? Make me disappear? My father—"

"You're different." Blaine interrupted, and Kurt saw the swirling darkness again. "You notice things the others don't. You can see things they can't. So tell me. What else have you noticed?"

"You can appear places. Places that people can't appear. There's..._shadows_ that follow you, like pets." Blaine nodded, placing back and forth in front of Kurt. "And your eyes."

Blaine stopped, looking at him curiously. "My eyes?"

"They turn black. Completely black."

"Oh, you mean this." The dark-haired man blinked and when his eyes appeared once more, they were entirely black and soulless. Kurt nodded, shuddering. "Anything else?"

"Why are you here?" Kurt demanded, using every ounce of willpower to step toward the black-eyed man. "No one here wronged you."

"Oh, Kurt. I'm not here for revenge. I'm to protect someone. A person I made a deal with when they were young and hurting."

"Who?" Kurt regretted asking it the minute Blaine's cold hand touched his cheek, making goosebumps appear on his arms and neck.

"You." Blaine disappeared, and this time Kurt saw the darkness swallow him up.

Kurt collapsed against the wall nearest him, shaking in dear and perhaps a bit of excitement—and confusion. Lots of confusion.


End file.
